


where the wolves run green

by TheFlirtMeister



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Roman and Peter run away together and start a new life, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13105020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlirtMeister/pseuds/TheFlirtMeister
Summary: The house is in the middle of nowhere, and Roman adores it. Nobody knows who he is. Nobody knows who Peter is. And back home, nobody knows where they have gone, not even Shelley or Destiny. The pleasure of being anonymous is something sweet that Roman has never known before.Or, Roman wakes to a wolf in his bed.





	where the wolves run green

**Author's Note:**

> so many ppl have commented on my hemlock fic lately that i just had to write something short and sweet for the fandom?? i was trying not to purple prose it but it's me, so w/e

Roman wakes up to a wolf in his bed. He opens sleep encrusted eyes and stares into the black pools of the wolf’s own. He recoils in the bed, an instant reaction, pushing himself away, and then upright. The wolf has its mouth open, bone white teeth exposed, and a hot pink tongue lolling from the mouth.

“Peter.” Roman says, and Peter whines thick at the back of his throat.

Roman reaches out, pressing the flat of his palm against Peter’s muzzle. There’s a scar running across Roman’s palm, an accident in the kitchen that evening whilst making dinner for himself. The knife had slipped, spraying wine rust blood down Roman’s shirt and the counters. He had stared at his palm, and then at the knife in his hand.

The knife had slipped again then, cutting the other palm. Blood had pooled on the kitchen floor, and Roman had lapped it up.

Peter makes a rumbling noise, and then rolls over onto his back, puppy like. Roman would laugh, but instead he stares at the beast in his bed. Peter’s stomach is pink like raw meat, and Roman slides his hand from Peter’s snout to his belly.

Peter huffs appreciatively. Peter changes form in the woods most nights, refusing to enter their new home as a wolf. He sheds his skin at the gateposts, smearing organs and entrails across the ground for the stray dogs and foxes to snatch up in the morning.

The house is in the middle of nowhere, and Roman adores it. Nobody knows who he is. Nobody knows who Peter is. And back home, nobody knows where they have gone, not even Shelley or Destiny. The pleasure of being anonymous is something sweet that Roman has never known before.

Roman looks over at the bedside clock, which tells him 03:45 in crimson blinks. Roman groans, because he has to wake up early in the morning and do work. He has a job, an _actual job_ , as a HR specialist. Because of course, Roman Godfrey, is the person you want to go to when you have a HR dilemma.

He enjoys it though. He has his own office, which he decorates with pictures of Peter, Shelley, and Letha. He wears suits with brightly patterned ties and pads around the department in just his socks. He has women who come to him and report incidents in hushed whispers, and then Roman goes and mauls the men who have done it.

Mainly Roman is at this job to beat people up and earn a stupid amount of money.

Peter growls in present day because Roman has stopped rubbing his belly. Roman rolls his eyes, and runs his fingers lightly over the soft hair, and then digs his nails in to scratch at Peter’s skin. Peter gives a happy little huff, and wriggles on the bed.

“You’re ridiculous.” Roman says, and Peter raises a wolfy eyebrow at him. “Yes. Yes you are.”

Peter makes a barking noise that sounds like a laugh, and then flips himself back over, standing on top of the covers. Roman blinks at him, and Peter leans in, licking Roman’s nose with hot blood breath. Roman pushes him away playfully, rubbing his nose.

“Go to sleep.” He says, “I have to go to work in the morning.”

Peter jumps off the bed, landing on the carpet with a soft thud. Roman props himself up on one elbow to watch Peter push the bedroom door open with his snout, and escape out into the hallway.

“Close the door!” Roman calls after him, and Peter gives a throaty cough that basically tells him to fuck off. “Fuck you too.”

Roman lays back down under the covers, pulling them up to his neck. His palms sting slightly, and he tucks one underneath the pillow and the other reaching out into the space where Peter was. He yawns, nose wrinkling, and then slips easily into a dreamless sleep.

When the alarm goes off three hours later, Roman pretends that it’s not happening. He pulls the pillow over his head, hoping that it’s all a figment of his imagination, and he doesn’t actually have to get up this fucking early.

The pillow is wrestled from his grasp, and he blinks up into Peter’s grinning face. There’s old blood dried and smeared across Peter’s chin, and his stubble has started to grow into a full beard. There’s a scar across his nose from a fight that Roman thinks he might have started, and when Peter smiles, his eyes crinkle.

Roman pushes himself upright and pulls Peter into a kiss that would put a romantic movie to shame. Peter laughs against Roman’s mouth, kissing him back forcefully, until they’re on top one another, Roman’s hands in Peter’s long hair.

“You only saw me three hours ago.” Peter whispers into Roman’s ear, before peppering kisses all over his cheek, chin, and forehead.

“Mm.” Roman says, trying to catch his mouth again. “I know.”

“So what’s the hurry?” Peter asks, and then pulls away suddenly. “Did something happen?”

“What?” Roman says, and then shakes his head. “No. Can’t I just kiss you?”

“No, because you’re going to be late for work dipshit.” Peter says, and climbs off him, much to Roman’s dismay. “Come on. I’m only dating you for your money remember?”

“Funny, I thought you were dating me for my massive prick.” Roman replies.

“Well, that too.” Peter says, and then presses cold feet against Roman’s side. “Get up. Get up, get up!”

“I’m going, I’m going _, Christ_.” Roman hauls himself out of bed, but he’s not angry in the slightest. “You’ve got blood on your chin by the way.”

“I know.” Peter says, scratching at it. “I couldn’t be bothered to wash it off.”

“You disgust me.” Roman says, and Peter tilts his hands underneath his chin, cocking his head to one side.

“You love me!” He says, and Roman rolls his eyes, kicking the half open door so that it swings across and hits the wall on the other side.

“Yeah yeah.” He says, thinking of the wedding ring that’s hidden in his underwear drawer. “Sure I do.”

The last thing he hears before he goes into the bathroom is Peter’s warm loving laughter, and it’s enough to make his heart ache.

**Author's Note:**

> comment if u enjoyed!! :D


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